


Don't Give Up On Me

by zacekova



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Birthday Parties, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sadistic Reborn, Tutor Reborn, Tutoring, but only mildly, my attempts at it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacekova/pseuds/zacekova
Summary: T.A.s don’t often get their own articles on ratemyproffessor.com, since they’re just T.A.s, but Reborn, apparently, has practically broken the system by gaining the second-highest number of reviews of any professor in the entire state. Which is even more impressive when you find out he’s only been the T.A. for the head of the math department for two years.Every single review — once you filter out the attractiveness category, anyway — is a zero.
Relationships: Reborn/Sawada Tsunayoshi
Comments: 35
Kudos: 348





	Don't Give Up On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Dear anon, I am so sorry. This took far longer than it should have. Please forgive me. Also, I know you asked for more of the sadistic and controlling side of Reborn and this doesn't really go into that at all, but Relinquishing Control is really the extent of my comfort zone with that. I hope you enjoy this anyway!

Tsuna scrambles to erase yet _another_ wrong answer to the third equation on the page and wills himself not to look at the clock. It would only add to his increasing despair at how long this is taking. 

Across the table, Abe heaves out a long, weary sigh and shakes his head. “Look Sawada, you’re probably just having a bad day. Get some food, some sleep, we’ll try again next week.” And his words themselves are patient, even a little kind, but when Tsuna looks up, there’s something shifty about him. For one, Abe’s completely avoiding Tsuna’s gaze, and two, his tone was just a _little off._

And then he starts packing up his own stuff before Tsuna even has the chance to respond. 

“Wait! Let’s just move on to the next equation, I’ll come back to this one later on my own,” Tsuna pleads, fingers clenching around his pencil. “I— I _really_ need to get this, I gotta work on this every chance I have, even if I’m tired or not doing well. I _have_ to.” 

Abe stares at him for a long moment and then huffs in exasperation. “What are your grades are like? I need to know what I’m working with.”

Tsuna cringes internally, but pulls it up on his laptop and spins it around so Abe can see. 

Abe’s mouth falls open, and then he laughs, shaking his head as he moves even faster to pack up his stuff. “Look, I’m sorry Tsuna, but you still don’t even know how to multiply by seven. There is no way you’re going to understand any of this well enough to pass this semester and I’m not going to spend four hours a week teaching you just for you to fail anyway.” And then he walks out without a backward glance. 

Tsuna sinks back into his seat, gut churning and mind racing. 

He... he _has_ to pass. This class isn’t taught during the spring semester so this is his last chance if he wants to graduate on time. So he has to figure this out, has to learn the material and find someone who can explain it to him, who _will_ explain it to him. 

After a long moment of staring off into space, dread suffusing his entire being, Tsuna bends down to rifle through his backpack and pulls out the scribbled list he’d put together two weeks ago of people he could go to for help. 

Every single name has been scratched out except for one, all the way at the bottom.

 _Oh fuck._

~~~ 

Tsuna’s never seen the guy before because Tsuna sits all the way at the back of the hall in a seat right by the exit so he can book it out of the room the moment class is over to run all the way across campus for his next lecture. So he's only heard the rumors, the complaints, the gossip around campus.

What he knows, in summary, is this (heard straight from Hayato’s mouth so it has to be true): 

T.A.s don’t often get their own articles on ratemyproffessor.com, since they’re just T.A.s, but Reborn, apparently, has practically broken the system by gaining the second-highest number of reviews of any professor in the entire _state_. Which is even more impressive when you find out he’s only been the T.A. for the head of the math department for two years. 

Every single review — once you filter out the attractiveness category, anyway — is a zero.

  
  


~~~

All through the next Math 101 lecture, Tsuna fidgets. He’s going to end up late for his next class because he’s taken a seat all the way at the front of the hall in the hopes that he can catch Doctor Miura before the Professor can escape. He’d already emailed Professor Mirch to let her know about the possible delay and her reply had been nothing but half-a-dozen of those laugh-crying emojis, which… doesn’t really inspire Tsuna with much confidence. 

It doesn’t help that every time Tsuna’s fussing makes his desk squeak, some guy a couple of seats down shoots him a dark look, black eyes glinting with barely restrained malice, and Tsuna’s pretty sure that the pencil he broke the last time they made eye contact was done on _purpose_. 

As soon as the Professor wraps up the lecture Tsuna leaps out of his chair, in part just to flee from the attention of the predator nearby in an instinctual move of self-preservation. But mostly he’s trying not to panic at the dogged way Doctor Miura is attempting to get through the door even as Tsuna dashes in front of him and blocks his path. 

“Hi Doctor Miura!” he blurts, rushing straight into his plea since the man is already trying to find a way around him. “I know you’re busy, but I just have a quick question about my grades. I was wondering if you know any masters students or other professors in the math department who might be able to tutor me, or maybe there’s some extra credit assignments I could get to boost my grade? I _really_ need to pass this class.” 

Doctor Miura pauses — _thank god_ — and smiles pityingly at him. “If you need tutoring you could check with some of the higher ranked students in the class.” 

“I _have_ ,” Tsuna says, scrambling to find a way to explain without making himself appear completely and totally hopeless; he _needs_ someone to help him. “They… none of them can… work with me.” 

“Ah yes, well, university is quite a busy time,” Doctor Miura nods with affected understanding. “I must say that my T.A. probably understands the grade requirements better than I, however, as well as the syllabus, so I’m not sure I can be of much help to you. I am quite busy doing research for my book that the university is so graciously funding, after all!” The man chuckles cheerfully and pats Tsuna on the shoulder. “Talk to Reborn about some extra credit assignments, I’m sure he would be more than happy to work something out with you,” he finishes, smiling genially, and then he gestures over at some guy who’s standing behind the desk organizing all the assignments that had been dropped onto it.

Tsuna’s heart freezes. It’s _that guy_ — the one who’s been glaring daggers at Tsuna all class period. So… _he’s_ Reborn? 

Well, shit. 

To be honest, Tsuna had questioned the validity of some of the older student’s claims about the university’s most infamous T.A., but now he’s not so sure, not now that he’s endured two hours of Reborn’s terrifying personality in person. And even if the rumors _aren’t_ true, the man’s probably so pissed about Tsuna’s jittering he’ll probably dock his attendance grade or something out of spite. 

But… he _needs_ this class, he can’t stay on an extra semester for _one class_ , so he nods absently at Doctor Miura — who’s already halfway out the door — and drags himself over to where the T.A. is now sliding the neat stack of assignments into a slim briefcase. 

“Umm, Reborn?” 

Reborn’s gaze slides up to him, brow lifting in question, and Tsuna cringes at the glint in his eye. 

“Um, sorry to bother you, but Doctor Miura said to come to you. It’s just… I’m really struggling with understanding the material and I haven’t been doing well on the assignments. But I need to pass this class to graduate at the end of the year and it’s not offered in the spring.” 

“So join a study group. Or get a tutor,” Reborn says, brow still quirked imperiously, apparently completely unmoved by Tsuna’s plight. 

“I… I _have_ ,” Tsuna says, heart already sinking. “I’ve been in a study group since the beginning of the year _and_ I’ve talked to literally everyone else in the class who’s grade is above a D. But most of them said they don’t have the time to tutor me and the ones who did all…” He pauses, terrified that if he points out how hopeless he is then Reborn won’t bother trying either. 

“All…?” Reborn asks, trailing off expectantly. 

And… fuck it, this is literally his last chance, he’s got nothing to lose at this point. “They all gave up on me,” Tsuna says, fingers clenching around the strap of his backpack. “Said it was a waste of their time.” 

Reborn frowns, watching him for a long moment, and then holds out a hand. “Give me today’s homework. And the list.” 

Tsuna immediately starts rifling through his bag, a faint light of hope stirring in his chest, but pauses as the second request sinks in. “What list?”

“The list you somehow compiled of students’ grades,” Reborn says, eyes narrowed. “I'm not going to ask how you managed to access what’s supposed to be private, passworded info, because I want plausible deniability if you get caught.” 

Tsuna flushes and rifles some more, finally emerging from the depths of his bag with the requested papers. 

Reborn looks over them, mostly just skimming the list, but he takes a little more time with the homework assignment. After a minute or two, he straightens both stapled documents against the surface of the desk and adds them to the stack in his briefcase. “Do you have any prior engagements at six in the evening on Thursday?” he asks. 

“Uhh… no?” Tsuna says, brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Great.” Reborn snaps the case shut and stands, pushing a fedora down over his eyes. “Study room eight in the library. I’ll email you a reminder.” And then he strides out of the room before Tsuna can do much more than blink in surprise. 

Tsuna stares after him, feeling like his own brain is still stuck two minutes back in the conversation until Reborn’s final words finally sink in. 

He’s… going to tutor him. Reborn is actually going to tutor him. 

Holy _shit_. 

~~~ 

Thursday evening finally rolls around and Tsuna is hovering outside study room eight trying to quell his nerves. This is literally his last shot at getting help so he can’t screw up. He’s got to be on his best behavior, got to try harder than he ever has before, or he’ll be stuck at school for another semester. 

And there’s no _way_ he’s asking his father to help pay for room and board again. 

He finally sucks in a wobbly, not-nearly-steadying-enough breath and opens the door, slipping inside and closing it behind him as quietly and courteously as he can. 

Reborn is seated on the far side of the table, leaning back in his seat with one foot crossed over the opposite knee, arms folded across his chest and fedora tipped low over his eyes. But they’re gleaming from within its shadow so Tsuna mumbles a quiet “hey,” in greeting. Reborn flicks a finger toward the table. 

“Get out a pencil and some paper, I'm quizzing you from the beginning until we find where you’re stuck,” he says. 

Tsuna moves to comply, stomach heavy because he knows they won’t get very far. 

And he doesn’t, barely three minutes go by before Tsuna shakes his head mutely, but Reborn doesn’t make fun of him or scold him or even sigh with weariness like all his other tutors had when they realized just how little he knows. He just nods and tells Tsuna to get his textbook out and then flips to the appropriate chapter. 

Which, unfortunately, is chapter number one, but that’s not surprising in the slightest. So… y’know, so far it seems to be going fine. Reborn is apparently taking his hopelessness in some unprecedented, bizarrely-patient stride and Tsuna starts to feel like maybe he actually has some hope as Reborn starts explaining everything succinctly, clearly, repeating and rephrasing as many times as it takes for the info to click in Tsuna’s head. 

But he’s freaking _relentless_ , never allowing for a break, drilling him over and over and over and over and _over_ until all the formulas from the chapter are so ingrained in Tsuna’s head he’s probably going to be dreaming about them for the next week. 

And somewhere in the midst of it something in Reborn’s demeanor just — _shifts_. There’s a dark, excited gleam in his eyes that’s almost manically delighted the first time Tsuna groans in frustration and it brightens with every whine of despair. Within an hour, Reborn is whapping Tsuna on the back of the head to “stop crying and focus,” every time Tsuna voices a complaint. 

It’s _torture_. 

Hours go by, the clock on the wall ticking steadily, taunting Tsuna with the reminder of how much sleep he’s going to miss out on before his eight AM class tomorrow, but Reborn seems determined to work on this until Tsuna understands the entire chapter. Quite possibly even if it kills him. 

They’re only just wrapping up as one of the library employees comes by to tell them they’re closing up for the night (which means it’s _TWO AM, oh god_ ) and Tsuna’s brain feels like nothing more than primordial ooze, leaking out of his ears in sad little drips. He’s been thwacked across the back of the head so many times his hair has got a semi-permanent cowlick and his hand has cramped up so much he can barely extend his fingers all the way. 

They pack up silently and walk through the slowly-darkening building as the librarians close up and shut off the lights and then they’re out on the sidewalk, hovering awkwardly. Tsuna knows he should say ‘thank you,’ but he’s not feeling terribly charitable toward his new tutor currently, not with the way his scalp is aching. 

Except, before he can work up the nerve to say it anyway, because he really is desperately in need of whatever ( _cruel_ ) help he can get, Reborn adjusts the fedora on his head and asks “How often do you want to meet? We can stick with the usual once-a-week if you want, but if we meet twice a week, you’ll be able to catch up faster.”

Tsuna’s not sure he can handle such brutal study sessions even once a _month,_ let alone twice a week, but he also really wants to graduate on time. His only saving grace is that he doesn’t have a job, courtesy of Iemitsu paying for all his college expenses despite Tsuna’s effusive protests (at the beginning anyway. By the time he got to midterms his first semester he couldn’t begin to explain how grateful he was for the extra study time. Not that Iemitsu needs to know that). So… he should probably take advantage while Reborn is still being gracious. 

“Um, yeah, twice a week would be great if you have the time,” he says, hiking his backpack up higher onto his shoulder. “I could do Saturday mornings or four-thirty on Mondays.” 

“Monday,” Reborn says shortly. “Oh, and don’t bother with the homework assignments for this class anymore. You’ll be doing all of them over again once we get to those portions of the textbook anyway, so there’s no point when you don’t even understand the material yet.” 

Tsuna’s eyes go wide. He’d... figured he’d still have to be working on all the assignments just like everyone else, taking the crappy grades until he managed to catch up with the classwork. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Reborn says, brow furrowed in a glare. “You’ll still have to do all the assignments on your own, I just won’t make you do them until you’ve actually learned the material. This is for my benefit, not yours. It’s a waste of my time to grade something twice.” 

Tsuna nods absently, conceding to Reborn’s logic, but part of him thinks that’s not really the entire story. It’s a kindness and consideration Tsuna wasn’t expecting, not from the world’s most unreasonable T.A. in history, and he barely manages to stammer out a “thank you,” before Reborn his spinning on his heel and walking away. 

He probably spends way longer than is reasonable staring after him, but it’s kind of hard not to when he feels so warm and reassured all the way down to his toes, even with the chilly breeze snaking up his sleeves. 

Maybe he’s got a chance of passing after all. 

~~~ 

On Monday afternoon Tsuna takes a detour to the campus coffee shop on his way to his next tutoring session. The Math 101 lecture that morning had been just as confusing as all the ones before it and though he knew it was ridiculous to think he’d be able to follow anything after only catching up by _one_ chapter, he can’t help feeling frustrated. There’s still _so much_ left to learn and a third of the semester is already over. How the hell is he supposed to pass? 

No wonder everyone else has given up on him. He kind of feels like giving up himself, right now, despite how much hope he’d had just a few days ago.

Tsuna shakes the maudlin thoughts aside and pushes open the door to the cafe, taking his spot at the end of the line behind some guy in a fedora. 

And then he blinks and looks again. Wow, yeah, that’s Reborn just in front of him. Should he say something? But what the hell do you say to your drill sergeant of a T.A. when you’re caught behind them in a line of overworked, listless college students waiting for their daily caffeine fix? Hi? Nice day today? Tortured anyone lately? 

He spends so long wondering that Reborn gets to the register and puts in his order before Tsuna can think of something, and then Reborn is shifting over to make room. He quirks a sharp, imperious eyebrow when he spots Tsuna standing behind him. 

“Uhhh,” Tsuna says intelligently, fingers curling tight around the straps of his backpack so he doesn’t do something idiotic. Like _wave_. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Reborn says evenly, eyes glinting with amusement, and then turns to take his double espresso — which the barista has made so fast she must have been planning for it the moment Reborn walked through the door, confirmed by the blush that spreads across her cheeks when he nods in thanks — and walks away without another word. 

Something twitches uncomfortably in Tsuna’s chest, but when he doesn’t immediately feel like he’s about to die he shrugs it off and gives the cashier his order, ignoring the huffed “finally” from the guy behind him. 

It’s not like he was expecting something different, really. Reborn is just his tutor, they’re not friends or anything, but Tsuna is literally on his way to the library to meet with the guy, he could have said _something_ more than the ‘hi’ that he got. A simple ‘hey, what’s up?’ or, ‘did you finish that practice quiz I gave you?’ would have been fine.

Hell, Tsuna thinks as he thanks the barista and takes his drink to the counter to dump in some creamer, he would’ve even taken something sufficiently Reborn-levels-of-sadistic. Maybe ‘You ready for your brain to bleed out of your ears?’ or, ‘I’ve got a one ton mallet just waiting to meet the back of your moronic head.’ Followed by that manic, evil grin and another problem sheet. 

Okay. So maybe he’s still feeling a little bruised after that last study session. Also, there’s a reason Tsuna doesn’t do impressions, but the point is that Reborn could _at least_ have—

… Waited for him outside the cafe, leaning against a guard rail and watching the pigeons scavenge the parking lot. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, jeans slim and pristine, and the gold tie around his throat shimmers in the sunlight. He turns at the sound of the door falling shut and straightens up, elegant fingers curled gently around a ceramic cup that _definitely_ didn’t come from the shop and his fedora tipped low, throwing his face into shadow. 

“That took forever,” Reborn says, almost a sigh, but showing irritation is probably too unsophisticated for him or something so it comes out cool and even and totally inflectionless (which… is probably not a word, now that Tsuna thinks about it). “If you came here more often they would know your order like they do mine, you wouldn’t have to wait so long.” 

Considering Tsuna’s been coming here at least twice a day and getting the same thing every time since the start of the semester, he’s positive that has nothing to do with why Reborn got his drink almost before he ordered it. But Tsuna’s not really sure how to articulate that without ruining the poor barista’s dignity, so eventually he just says, “Um, sure. Thanks.” 

Reborn smirks like he’s won something and shifts to face in the direction of the library. “Come on, before they give away the study room to someone else.” 

They fall into step together on the sidewalk and Tsuna tries to remember what he was thinking about before getting completely derailed. He’s got a bad feeling that this is something he should get used to if he’s going to be spending all this time with Reborn — getting derailed, that is. Obviously, he doesn’t have a whole lot of evidence to support his theory, but something tells him that Reborn delights a litte too much in chaos and torture. And if the endless string of bullies Tsuna had all through school is any indication, then he’s a magnet for teasing. 

Crap. 

“So,” Reborn says, twirling his now empty cup around the tip of a very long, perfect finger. “Seems to me like you’re a masochist.” 

Tsuna spits coffee all over the sidewalk. And then coughs a few times when it appears he _also_ inhaled some of it, somehow. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?” he rasps eventually, throat burning. 

Reborn smirks and then proceeds to rattle off an entire _list_ of evidence: “First of all, you’re obviously bad at math and know it, since you put off taking it for three years; since you knew it was required and _still_ put it off, you must prefer the agony of suspense rather than just getting the pain over with; you didn’t even appear to consider bribery or blackmail to get your way out of taking the class at all; you haven’t tried to cheat or to seduce me into letting you pass; and despite all your complaining and my… aggressive tutoring style, you never actually told me to _stop_ abusing you.” Reborn gives him a shark’s grin and finishes with a flourish of his hands. “So, in conclusion, you must enjoy being tortured. Nobody’s _that_ big of a door mat without also having masochist tendencies.” 

Tsuna is.... horrified, nothing but a weak, incoherent splutter making its way out of his mouth and wishing for the sidewalk to just open up and swallow him whole. He honestly has no idea how to refute all of that without it sounding damingly defensive, but he’s _not_ a masochist. 

… He’s _pretty sure_ he’s not a masochist. 

“Is this really how you start conversations with people you barely know?” Tsuna wheezes. 

“No. Obviously, you’re just way too easy to tease,” Reborn quips, and yup. That confirms Tsuna’s whole theory. 

“I must have a target painted on my forehead that says ‘please bully me’ or something,” he mutters to himself, taking another careful sip of his coffee and resuming their journey toward the library. 

They walk silently for a minute and then Tsuna works up some courage to say, “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

“I suppose that question doesn’t count?” Reborn asks dryly. 

Tsuna shoots him a halfhearted glare. “No, it doesn’t.” 

In response, he gets a lazy grin and a lazy handwave as if he’s welcome to continue. 

Tsuna sucks in a deep breath, nerves back after the brief bout of irritation. “Why’d you agree to tutor me? You don’t exactly have a reputation of benevolence.” 

“That’s because roughly ninety-nine percent of the people who come to me for help either, one, just haven’t read the syllabus and don’t need more help than a swift whack on the head for their stupidity, two, could go straight to the student aid office and sign up for tutoring with the people whose job it actually is to help with the problems they have, or three, are just looking to bribe or sob-story their way out of assignments,” Reborn says, brow pinched in irritation. “If they don’t want to or can’t handle the work they should just leave, I’m not going to waste my time.” 

Tsuna frowns. “Don’t I fit into the ‘can’t handle it’ category?” 

“Not really,” Reborn says, shrugging. “Most of those claiming to be falling apart from stress haven’t done the work to accommodate their learning styles or prioritizing their time. I’ve done the calculations. Literally ninety-five percent of the students I’ve had tell me they’ve got too much coursework have admitted to spending a minimum of four evenings a week just relaxing and at least two entire weekends a month spending time with family and friends or partying. And a majority of those students don’t even have jobs.” 

“Some people need more socializing than others to maintain their mental health,” Tsuna points out, still frowning. 

Reborn scoffs. “That’s a great excuse for procrastinating. If you need so much socializing that you can’t get all your work done on time then either cut down on your course load or drop out. Either way, it’s not my problem.” 

It all sounds rather cold and cruel to Tsuna, but he’s not sure he wants to argue with Reborn about the philosophy of his teaching style just now, especially since it definitely doesn’t seem to weigh in his favor. “I suppose. But that still doesn’t make it clear to me why you decided I _am_ worth tutoring.”

Reborn looks over at him sideways. “You’re the first student since I became a T.A. to get well below a forty percent on the first quiz of the semester. I looked for you the very next lecture and instead of seeing a sleeper or a YouTube addict or a gamer, I saw the highly-attentive, almost annoyingly-eager student I’d noticed on the first day of class who took down pages of notes and asked so many questions Doctor Miura looked about ready to kick you out. And then you told me you’d joined a study group from the very beginning _and_ that you’d spent the entire semester trying to keep a tutor. And I’ve seen your work sheets. They’re always hilariously wrong, but you put a lot of work into them. So many eraser shavings,” he finishes, shaking his head. 

Tsuna’s face flushes and he takes a sip of his drink to halt the embarrassed squeak rising in his chest in its tracks. 

Reborn’s shoulders lift in a shrug as he pulls to a stop just outside the library doors. “I do actually give my attention to the few students who have legitimate reasons for asking for help and can’t get it elsewhere. You, apparently, had exhausted every other resource available to you and you _want_ to pass.”

His expression is completely bland, bored almost, but Tsuna feels a tiny spread of warmth in his chest right alongside a flood of thanks to himself that he’s always been too stubborn not to _try,_ regardless of how hopeless he knows he is. “Well. Thank you,” he says. “For noticing that and for agreeing to help.” 

“Thank me by passing,” Reborn quips and then strides off through the doors. “Make the time I’ve spent on you worthwhile.” 

“Um, yeah, of course,” Tsuna stutters, scrambling to catch up. He spends the journey up to the study room pondering over what Reborn said, his cold and indifferent approach to struggling students that somehow didn’t include _Tsuna_ of all people. It doesn’t really make sense, but… well, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right? He’s getting the help he needs and there’s zero sign from Reborn that he’s going to give up anytime soon, so Tsuna’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. It’s still probably a pipe dream to hope he’ll pass, but if he has to hospitalize himself for exhaustion come December to make it happen, he’ll do it. 

As soon as they get settled at their table, it’s like a switch is flipped in Reborn’s personality. He’d been scathing voicing his opinions outside, condescending, but it hadn’t been directed at Tsuna; he’d even been rather kind. Now, though, he instantly turns back into the sadistic, military taskmaster Tsuna remembers from last time. Reborn works Tsuna until his fingers are cramping, smirking at every moan of despair and smacks him upside the head for every question he apparently should have learned the answer to during the last study session.

It’s a little disorienting, confusing, as well as completely _exhausting_ , but… it’s _almost_ kind of fun now that he knows Reborn has it in him to be nice, too, even if Tsuna spends the whole evening half in tears and cursing whoever invented math. It feels more like playful ribbing than cruelty, although it’s definitely some of the harshest ribbing he’s ever received without ever quite crossing the line into true bullying. 

If he had the energy and brain power to think about it any more than that he’d probably be impressed. 

But really, it’s just nice to make it through their second tutoring session and not be terrified that it will be the last — Reborn hasn’t shown any signs of wanting to bail, and when they’re parting ways for the evening he confirms their next meeting with a bland expression and a short nod. 

Tsuna heaves a silent sigh of relief and goes to hunt down some dinner. 

~~~ 

He’s on his way to lunch, Gokudera and Hibari arguing over the top of his head again (and who the hell knows what it’s about _this_ time, Tsuna’s learned to just tune it out as soon as the volume escalates), when they come around a corner and Tsuna’s gaze lands on someone stretched out along the top of the unused dumpster behind the music building. Their hands are braced behind their head, one elegant knee propped up, and there’s an oddly familiar fedora resting over the man’s face...

“Reborn?” Tsuna asks, and watches in slightly-stunned confusion as the man slits one very familiar dark eye open from under the depths of his hat. 

“What, Dame-Tsuna?” Reborn asks, tone stiff and irritated.

“Hey, don’t call him that!” Gokudera shouts at the same time that Hibari snorts in amusement, but really, Tsuna’s been called that a thousand times in his life _and_ been surrounded by his energetic, volatile friends for years, so he just ignores all of it and barrels on. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“Well, I _was_ napping. Can I help you with something?” Reborn asks, obviously displeased and yet remarkably awake for someone who was supposedly sleeping just seconds earlier. 

“Uh, well, no? I guess not?” Tsuna stammers, and when Reborn lifts his head up enough for the hat to slide back and artfully reveal a disdainfully quirked brow, Tsuna throws his hands up defensively and backs away. “Sorry! Sorry to bother you, I’ll see you later, yeah? Come on guys.” He turns to start corralling the others off in a different, more circuitous route to the cafeteria, but as he goes he swears he sees Reborn’s lip quirk. But then Reborn is lying his head back down and closing his eyes, and it was so fast Tsuna really can’t be sure it happened at all. 

Gokudera basically jumps on him as soon as they're out of sight, jogging along backwards in front of him, brow furrowed. “How do you know Reborn?” 

“Um, he’s my math tutor,” Tsuna explains, and Gokudera’s eyes go wide. 

“He’s what?” 

Tsuna scratches his head and nods. “Yeah, so, I’d already tried everyone else in the class _and_ the campus tutoring center and all of you guys are busy with your own classes and jobs so I finally went to the Professor and he told me to talk to Reborn and… I don't really get it but he decided to help.”

The guys seemed stunned for a moment, just staring at him, Hibari too, surprisingly, who never seems shocked about _anything_. 

“How long has this been going on?” Hibari asks, and his eyebrows disappear into his hairline when Tsuna answers, “a couple of weeks.” 

Gokudera’s jaw may as well be on the ground with how wide it’s gaping. “You mean you haven’t _died_ yet? And he hasn’t tried to _kill you?_ ” 

Tsuna shrugs. “I mean, he is pretty strict, like _really_ strict, but it’s not actually that bad. At least I’m actually learning.” 

Hibari has that look on his face that he gets whenever he comes across a worthy opponent, which is confusing, and Gokudera still seems like he could use one of those shock blankets, and all the attention is grating uncomfortably against Tsuna’s nerves so he steps forward and starts physically pushing Gokudera down the sidewalk. 

“Come on, guys, I really am hungry. If you want to bombard me with more questions, fine, but let me eat!” 

He’s fully prepared to endure an agonizing interrogation, but strangely enough that’s the end of it, even if both of them do keep shooting him odd looks for the rest of the week. 

~~~ 

It’s late enough that the library is nearly silent as he and Reborn clean up — almost everyone has gone to the cafeteria for dinner. Tsuna spent the entire afternoon looking for a chance to work in a request, but there’s never been a good segue. He’s kind of out of time now, though, so if he doesn’t just ask he’s either going to have to bail on Thursday without a word or send a horrendously-awkward email, but his emails are always atrocious so he’d rather avoid that if at all possible. 

So, just blurt it out, yeah? 

“Um, do you think we could move Thursday’s tutoring to a different day this week? Or skip it if you think I can afford to?” Tsuna asks. His grip around the handle of his backpack is white-knuckled, heart pounding in his chest as Reborn looks up at him through his lashes, hands frozen where they’d been stacking up the scrap papers Tsuna used to work out equations on. 

“Why?” Reborn asks. 

Tsuna swallows and tries to hold his intense gaze. “Um, it’s my birthday. My friends were planning to throw me a party.” 

Strangely, Reborn quirks a brow, eyes flashing. “The fourteenth?” 

Tsuna nods. 

“How odd,” Reborn murmurs, and then his lips turn up in a smirk. “Mine’s the thirteenth.” 

Tsuna gapes. “Really?” 

“Would I have said it if it weren’t true?” Reborn asks, the quirk of his brow imperious now, instead of amused. 

“Sorry, you’re right!” Tsuna says, waving defensively before quickly going back to gathering the rest of his stuff. “So what are you doing for yours?” 

“I don’t have any plans,” Reborn says blandly and snaps his briefcase closed. “I don’t have any family, and my friends are at other schools.” 

Tsuna frowns. “That’s no good! It’s your birthday, you have to celebrate somehow!” Then he brightens. “I know, come to my party! I’ll call everyone up and have them make some adjustments, we can share, it’ll be for both of us!” 

Reborn peers up at him, eyes widening _just slightly_ , just enough for Tsuna to notice and be surprised by _his_ surprise. There’s a long minute of blank staring, Reborn’s gaze searching, and then he gives the tiniest nod of agreement Tsuna has ever seen. “If you want to, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Great! I’ll text you the details!” Tsuna beams, shoving the last book into his bag and jogging out of the room before the other man can change his mind. 

~~~

Thankfully, his birthday plans this year are apparently nothing more extravagant than a trip to a karaoke box, since it’s a weeknight and no one in the group is huge on partying or drinking anyway. It takes little more than a phone call to Gokudera to make sure there’s enough space in the room they reserved for one more (there is). Everyone’s kind of surprised when Tsuna tells them who’s coming, sure that he’s pulling their leg because why would _Reborn_ want to hang out with them? 

But Thursday evening rolls around and sure enough Reborn strides up to them on the sidewalk outside the Karaoke hall. Tsuna feels oddly vindicated by the stunned looks on everyone’s faces as well as the private delight that Reborn really _did_ come. It’s gotta be weird for him, hanging around a bunch of people several years younger than him, especially since as far as Tsuna is aware the only one of them Reborn knows is Tsuna.

It’s kind of confirmed when they get inside their room and Reborn takes a seat a bit away from everyone else. Although, it doesn’t really look like he’s feeling left out so much as he’s enjoying sitting on the outskirts and observing the chaos. He’s got a glass in his hand, but Tsuna never sees him drink from it, only ever sees smirks and huffs of amusement while the rest of them sing mediocre-to-horrid covers (except for Gokudera, who — surprisingly — actually has an amazing voice) and tease each other mercilessly. It’s noisy and cheerful and silly and Tsuna has a blast, just like he always does with his friends, and it helps that Reborn doesn’t look irritated or bored. So he just accepts the fact that Reborn has a different way of enjoying social events and lets himself have fun, laughing and joking and eating to his heart’s content. 

He manages to get away with only singing twice, the first the most ridiculous off-key monstrosity in history with Ryohei, and afterward he’s forced into a solo encore. He picks a relaxed little balad with a simple melody even _he_ can’t mess up (it helps that it’s something his mom has been singing while she cooks for _years_ , so he knows it _really_ well, but no one has to know that). 

He can’t help glancing over at Reborn once during each song; Tsuna grins when the older man is shaking his head during the first one, and then flushes warm when their gazes meet during the second and Reborn’s bland expression shifts to a quirked brow, his eyes glinting in the shadowy corner. 

Eventually, an employee comes knocking on the door, warning them they’re closing in ten minutes. But instead of everyone immediately moving to start cleaning up like they usually do, Kyoko and Haru dash over to Reborn. 

“You have to sing, just once!” Kyoko says, tugging at his arm. 

Haru nods, snagging Reborn’s other wrist. “Yeah, you’ve been hiding in the corner all night making fun of the rest of us, it’s only fair to let us have a chance to do the same!” 

Kyoko makes an affronted noise and whips her head around. “What?! You think we’re doing this to make fun of him? No way! Reborn’s voice is probably better than Gokudera’s!” 

“You might as well just give in,” Takeshi grins. “You’ll never win against those two.” 

Reborn’s eyebrow lifts slowly, kind of intimidatingly, but the girls just dial up the effectiveness of their pouts to at least a level nine and after a long moment of staring at each other Reborn’s lip curls a bit and he nods in assent. “Alright, one song.” 

The girls cheer and a few of the guys clap, although Hibari’s sounds sarcastic, if it’s even possible to make a clap sarcastic. Reborn rises from his seat, tugging his vest straight and striding up onto the short stage in two long steps. He types something into the pad and a moment later a sultry blues melody Tsuna’s never heard before starts playing through the speakers. And the moment he starts singing, Tsuna feels his jaw drop to the floor. 

Damnit, as if he needs _another_ example of how amazing Reborn is, apparently at everything because _of course_ Reborn can sing too, low and smooth, eyes gleaming beneath his hat like the world’s most dangerous predator. _Fuck_. 

The others have fallen completely silent, the girls leaning forward in the seats completely enthralled and the guys a mix of impressed and indifferent. For some reason, Tsuna’s heartbeat feels a little too fast, his face too warm as the song eventually winds down and Reborn finishes with a dramatic bow that has the girls whooping and cheering enthusiastically. Tsuna doesn’t get a chance to think about it though, the weird feeling in his chest, because Gokudera gives it a grand total of five seconds before he’s barking out orders for everyone to grab their stuff and get out so they don’t bother the staff. 

No one argues with him — it’s still a weeknight and everyone has classes tomorrow so they all want to get home and sleep. But as they clean up the girls bombard Reborn with questions and the guys start talking about their plans for the upcoming weekend and Tsuna gets swept up in the momentum until suddenly they’re outside and everyone’s offering goodbyes and then it’s just Tsuna and Reborn left standing alone on the sidewalk. 

Tsuna glances over and finds him staring up at the sky, expression contemplative. “You okay?” he asks.

Reborn hums, gaze still on the few twinkling stars bright enough to be seen through the city’s glare. “Can’t remember the last time I celebrated my own birthday. It was nice,” he says, and tilts his face back down, then, looking at Tsuna with his mouth curled up in a smile. Not a smirk, not a shark’s grin, just a tiny, genuine smile, and something jolts in Tsuna’s chest again, this time with a spark of recognition in his head. 

“Umm, yeah, no problem,” he stutters out and without another word, just a final tip of his fedora, Reborn takes his leave, leaving Tsuna staring after him with a thudding heart and a rock in his stomach. 

“Well. Shit.” 

~~~ 

On Monday, Tsuna gets his midterm back. Reborn had declared him caught up enough for it to be possible to pass if he did well, so he’d actually sat and taken the test last week. The grades have probably already been posted online, but Tsuna likes to see the results and all the mistakes he made all at once, rather than dragging out the misery with wondering _why_ he did so bad until he could actually see where all the red marks were. 

He’d started sitting just behind Reborn just last week, using the proximity to ask short clarifying questions without having to interrupt the professor constantly, so Tsuna’s one of the first to sift through the stack of tests and pull out his own. 

And there, along the top, is a D-minus. 

Tsuna whoops, pumping a fist up in the air, and then freezes, looking around the room in dawning horror. Everyone is staring at him, Professor Miura included, and there’s more than a few snickers and giggles echoing around the room. Tsuna slowly lowers his hand and sinks into his seat, then closes his eyes and hides behind his palms when Reborn slowly rotates around and lifts an imperious brow. 

“Sorry,” Tsuna whispers. When he finally works up the courage to open his eyes again, Reborn’s expression has — inexplicably — morphed into something that looks almost like fond amusement. 

“Not bad,” he murmurs, and then turns back around to face the front while something inside Tsuna just _melts_ , gooey and warm and thrilled. 

Did Reborn just give him a compliment? 

It’s like a miracle, like angels coming down from Heaven to serenade him with holy songs, and the high of emotion and victory sticks with him for the next two days, even with another tutoring session that afternoon reminding him just how much more he still has to learn. 

Reborn _complimented him._

~~~ 

Bianchi’s birthday is on November 8, but since it’s on a Monday this year she’s apparently decided to celebrate a week early and combine it with Halloween. Since the sorority she’s part of always throws a huge party for the holiday every year anyway, it’s shaped up to be one of the biggest bashes of the year, what with all the regular partiers _and_ the Halloween fanatics _and_ the countless admirers and friends of the birthday girl all coming. The house is completely packed when Tsuna climbs out of Gokudera’s car, he can see that even from the end of the block, and it’s simultaneously terrifying and exciting. 

If it weren’t for Gokudera, Tsuna never would have gotten an invitation, even though the majority of the school seems to have been invited. It means he’ll be mostly anonymous, an unknown face, which means he might be left alone the whole night. But that also means he might be left alone the whole night (if Gokudera abandons him). 

There’s people standing and sprawling all over the front lawn as they make their way up the front path and onto the porch, and countless more crammed inside trying to stay away from the chill October air. The smells of spicy wings and alcohol are wafting around and somewhere in the depths of the house there must be a subwoofer because even the pictures on the walls are vibrating to the beat of whatever song is blaring through the house. It’s all completely different from any scene Tsuna’s ever been a part of — he never even went to the dances in high school — and he’s kind of at a loss as to what he should do. 

Thankfully, they stumble across Bianchi after a few minutes and hand over their presents. 

“Thank you!” she says, passing the gifts off to one of the freshman guys that are following her around like over-awed puppies before pulling the both of them into a hug. 

Gokudera, of course, shoves himself away as soon as he can escape from her octopus arms, visibly fighting back a gag, but Tsuna just endures the affection until Bianchi has had her fill. 

“Happy birthday!” he says, grinning. 

Bianchi beams, and then seems to spot someone over Tsuna’s shoulder, perking up and waving to them. “Hey, over here!” she calls. 

Tsuna spins around to see who she's talking to, but only catches a glimpse of a white beard on a tall figure before the man has swept past him to wrap an arm around Bianchi’s shoulder. The two exchange a quick fire of pleasantries before Bianchi pulls away and the two of them turn to face Tsuna and Gokudera. 

“This is Evgeny Vongolavsky, Hayato, I’ve told you about him before,” Bianchi says, smiling, and then turns to Tsuna. “Vongolavsky works for the school, he’s helped me figure out my class schedule every single semester so that nothing interferes with my work hours, and after all that time together we’ve gotten to be friends, haven’t we?” 

The older man nods, and Tsuna squints at him for a moment and then blinks. 

“Reborn?” he asks. 

Vongolavsky’s — _Reborn’s_ eyes widen. 

“What?” Bianchi asks, bewildered, and Gokudera splutters on his drink. She turns toward the older man more fully, staring for a long moment, and then ever so slowly reaches up and pulls his hat off, revealing an all-too-familiar head of spiky black hair. “Oh my god,” she whispers. 

Reborn’s mouth curls up on one side, gaze piercing and curious as he stares down at Tsuna. “I’ve maintained this alter ego for six years, you know.” 

Gokudera’s jaw is on the floor. A few others around them who seem to have noticed what’s going on are gaping too, and Bianchi can’t seem to stop staring. 

“We dated!” she says softly, finally turning to look at Tsuna. “I’ve _dated_ Reborn and I didn’t even realize! How did you know it was him?” 

Tsuna just stares at her, unable to follow the thread of the conversation anymore as his heart starts slowly sinking in his chest. She and Reborn…? 

“Tsuna?” Bianchi asks, and Tsuna blinks, shaking away that train of thought long enough to remember that she’d asked him a question a minute ago. 

“Oh, uhh. I’m not really sure,” Tsuna answers truthfully. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asks, looking around at the gathered crowd. 

Slowly, Bianchi shakes her head, and dozens of the others do as well. 

“Oh.” Tsuna palms the back of his neck and starts to back away. “Um, okay then. Look, I uh, I’m feeling a little dizzy, it’s so warm in here. I think I’m gonna get some air.” He gives an awkward wave and then spins around and heads for the back door. 

The backyard has more people, though most of them are staying on the deck near the open doors or in the hottub, considering it’s about fifty degrees out, so Tsuna makes his way to a corner on the far side of the pool and sinks down onto one of the reclining chairs scattered around. 

He kind of wants to slap himself for being so obvious and pathetic back there — his broken heart was probably written all over his face for everyone to see. Because it’s obvious in retrospect. Bianchi is beautiful and intelligent and talented and really, really sweet, why wouldn’t she have caught Reborn’s attention? It’s not surprising at all, it’s just… well Tsuna’s an idiot and he hadn’t really thought too deeply about it until now. About how hopeless this crush of his is. Because if even Bianchi couldn’t keep Reborn, how could it ever be possible for _Tsuna_ to have had a chance? 

The chair creaks and Tsuna whips his head up, heart leaping when he sees Reborn sinking down next to him and passing over a drink. 

“So what _really_ gave me away?” Reborn asks. “You didn’t give a clear explanation inside and I take pride in how impenetrable my disguises are. I need to know what to fix for next time.” 

Tsuna takes the glass with shaking fingers and shrugs. “I.. I don't really know honestly. I could just tell. I can’t give a specific clue because I didn’t notice anything specific. It was just… obvious.” 

Reborn’s gaze is intense on him, searching, and then — inexplicably — he smiles that soft smile, the one Tsuna first saw after their joint birthday party a couple weeks ago and that’s started showing up more often during their tutoring, when Tsuna gets an equation right or makes some quip Reborn actually seems to find entertaining. “You’re something else,” Reborn says, murmurs really, and Tsuna’s face heats. 

“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not,” he says, seriously caught between the desire to see it as a good thing, but sure is meant to be a bit derisive. 

Reborn laughs then, and it’s also real, rather than the usual mocking or sadistically pleased tone his laughs usually take on. Seriously, what the hell is going on? “It’s a secret,” he quips, smirking when Tsuna sticks out his tongue. “For now, anyway.” 

Tsuna frowns. “What the hell does that mean?” 

Reborn just shakes his head and then nods at the glass he’d handed over. “You going to drink that or not?” 

“Pushy,” Tsuna grumbles, but obediently takes a sip. “You’re not trying to poison me for revealing your secret identity, are you?” 

“Possibly. I am the world’s greatest hitman, you know,” Reborn says, eyeing Tsuna over his own glass, mischief curling his lips. “So, of course, no one would ever be able to prove it if I were.” 

Tsuna scoffs and bumps their shoulders together. “‘World’s greatest hitman,’ sure. Is there anything you’re not the best-of-the-best at? Or any more secret identities I should know about?” 

“Master Pao Pao,” Reborn deadpans, and Tsuna bursts into laughter. 

“Oh sure! You’re the world-record breaking national boxing champion of 1997. Were you even born yet?” 

Reborn grins, but takes another drink instead of answering and then asks, “How’s that research paper you mentioned going?” 

Tsuna groans and launches into a long-winded complaint about the struggles of finding credible sources and for some reason Reborn listens to the entire spiel, nodding along and offering suggestions, and then the topic shifts again and then again and… 

Somehow, they end up hanging out for the rest of the night, sequestered away in their chilly little corner of the yard until they look up and realize the party must be over — the backyard is completely empty and the house is quiet. Reluctantly, Tsuna says they should probably head out so he can get some sleep, so they pick their way through the cluttered rooms, passing by passed-out sorority girls and one frisky couple plastered against the kitchen counter on their way out. All of Tsuna’s friends have left already, judging by the empty street, and Reborn seems to notice the dejected look on his face when Tsuna realizes he’s going to have to walk. 

“Need a ride?” he asks, and Tsuna nods gratefully. 

The drive back is silent, and Tsuna spends the whole of it giddy and warm and confused. 

It’s been a nice night — _more_ than nice — spending time with Reborn outside of horrible study sessions, and he wonders if this is what it would be like to be friends with him. And how much better it could be if they were _together_. But this is probably the best Tsuna’s going to get, and... he’s pretty sure he can be content with it, with being only friends, if it’s always as fun as it was tonight. 

He knows he doesn’t stand a chance, but this can be enough.

Probably.

~~~ 

The following weeks are more of the same — classes and studying and tutoring with Reborn who is mostly the same as he’s been all semester, except maybe they chat a little bit more before starting and maybe they always walk back to Tsuna’s dorm together on Thursdays or to the cafeteria for dinner on Mondays and maybe Reborn is funny and intelligent and gorgeous and— 

Tsuna tries really hard not to think about it because it seems like they’re friends and he can’t ask for more. 

Thanksgiving goes by unnoticed — except for the cafeteria serving dry turkey and some sad mashed potatoes. Home is too far away for only a three-day trip and Tsuna has way too much studying to do anyway. 

And then finals week comes and it’s hell. 

Somehow, despite all the grading he has to finish and his own finals Reborn manages to squeeze in one last study session. And Tsuna is so, so grateful,, because he knows he still doesn’t understand everything and he definitely doesn’t understand any of it perfectly, but he’s finally starting to feel like he at least has a _chance_ now. It’s a stupid feeling, one his brain is constantly scolding him for, but he can’t help it. 

“Would you like to grab something to eat?” Reborn asks as he’s sticking the last stack of Tsuna’s completed coursework into his bag. 

“I don’t know, I don’t really want to go off campus, it’ll take too long, but the only place nearby that’s open this late is Cooper’s,” Tsuna says, shrugging. “I kind of thought it wouldn’t be classy enough for you.” 

Reborn lifts a sardonic brow. “Hard as it may be to believe considering my stunning genius, but I, too, have occasionally been an overworked college student who can’t make it a farther distance than the exhausted stumbling it takes to get to Cooper’s. And their cheesecake is pretty good, actually.” 

That startles a chuckle out of him, and Tsuna slings his bag over his shoulder. “Okay, sure. Guess I’ll try some cheesecake, then, I haven’t had theirs before.” 

So they walk over, a comfortable silence falling over them as they head out of the library and along the dimly-lit sidewalk until they emerge blinking into the brightness of Cooper’s family-diner-esque atmosphere, all faux leather booths and fake hanging plants. The only other person there is Professor Saunders, nursing his usual insomnia-coffee and poring over another philosophy text. 

They pick a booth before anyone can be bothered to seat them and the only waitress still working apparently doesn’t mind that they have, just walks over after a minute and asks if they need a menu. 

“Nah,” Tsuna says. “I think we’re just gonna get a slice of the cheesecake each, right?” he asks, looking at Reborn. 

“I’d also like an espresso,” Reborn adds, setting his hat down at the back end of the table next to the syrup caddy and pulling off his scarf. 

The waitress — Steph — nods and scribbles on her notepad. “Anything to drink for you?” she asks, glancing at Tsuna. 

“Oh, um… chocolate milk?” he asks, and though Steph just nods, Tsuna catches Reborn’s raised brow out of the corner of his eye. He sticks his tongue out. “There’s no rule saying only kids can drink it, you know,” he points out, knowing that the childish response isn’t exactly helping his case. 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Reborn says, smirking. “Is that all you want?” 

“Yeah,” Tsuna nods, turning to look at the amused waitress. “Thanks.” 

“Shouldn’t take five minutes,” she says, tucking her notepad into her apron and traipsing off toward the kitchen. 

Reborn slouches back in his seat with a smirk and it’s quiet again for a minute while Tsuna wrestles up the nerve to say what he’s been contemplating for days now. 

“Um, I wanted to say thank you for tutoring me this whole time. I mean, it’s still pretty unlikely that I’ll pass, which means it was kind of a waste of your time,” he says, shrugging, “but still. I can’t thank you enough for _trying._ ” 

Inexplicably, Reborn frowns. “You still think you’re going to fail after all this? Am I that bad of a tutor?” 

Tsuna’s eyes widen and his hands fly up, waving them rapidly back and forth. “Nonononono, that’s not it! It’s just… I know how hopeless I am. It’s not about you, I’m just that awful of math, at _everything_ really, I don’t think anyone could have salvaged the situation, honestly.” 

The frown hasn’t lessened at all, but Reborn’s shoulders seem to have lost most of their tension. But then he clicks his tongue and shakes his head once, firmly. “Even if you can’t have any more faith in yourself, you should at least believe in _me_ by now, Dame-Tsuna. You passed your midterm with only three weeks to prepare after all, didn’t you?” 

A part of Tsuna wants to argue, to point out that he passed by barely half a percentage point, and that was definitely due to that one multiple choice question he just happened to pick the right answer for despite it being a complete guess. But then he takes a closer look at Reborn’s expression, the lack of true irritation or arrogance; he just looks… concerned. 

So Tsuna deflates, slumps against the back of the booth and toys with the napkin-wrapped utensils while he tries to explain without completely cedeing to Reborn’s logic. Because he doesn’t agree. “It’s… It’s a miracle I got accepted to any college at all, Reborn, and I probably only graduated high school because my teachers couldn’t stand the idea of putting up with me for any longer than they had to.” He offers up a weary shrug and a bland smile. “I’ve never had a reason to expect anything of myself except failure.” 

The long, unflinching, unblinking stare that Reborn gives him is only interrupted by the waitress dropping off their drinks before she traipses off again. Reborn diverts his attention to the espresso, bringing the cup up to his mouth and inhaling deeply before taking a small, slow sip and setting it back down gently in its saucer. “You realize,” he drawls, “that if you _do_ pass this class, you’re going to be graduating on time, within the typical four years of any other undergrad, without having to repeat any classes? And in classes the size of yours professors don’t pass students to get rid of them since no one can possibly be enough of a nuisance for it to matter.” 

Tsuna blinks. He… hadn’t really thought about it like that. 

“Somehow I doubt you’re as hopeless as you think,” Reborn says, soft — so strangely soft. “I would imagine you just needed someone to care enough to _try_ , to make sure _you_ tried, rather than giving up the first time you struggled.” 

A scoff bursts its way out of Tsuna’s mouth and he shakes his head. “Try _dozens_. I couldn’t count how many have tried, Reborn. There’s just something wrong with you, you’re simultaneously the most impatient person I’ve ever met while also putting up with me far beyond anyone else has ever managed.” 

Reborn grins, all lazy and pleased, and brings his cup up again, pausing with it resting against his bottom lip to say, “I’d hardly say I’m ‘putting up’ with you, but let’s table that discussion for later.” 

“Huh?” Tsuna asks, brow furrowed. 

A hand waves the question away just as Steph comes back again, this time setting down two slices of pale, creamy cheesecake, and Tsuna decides he doesn’t care enough about decoding another one of Reborn’s mysteries, not when there’s _dessert_. 

Two bites and a few unseemly groans later, Reborn is asking how his friends are doing with their finals anyway, and Tsuna launches into the tale of Takeshi’s final presentation, completely incapable of stopping the swell of delight he gets whenever Reborn shows some amusement at the story. 

They hang around long enough that their waitress stops by twice to ask if they’re ready for the bill, only to be asked for refills on their drinks, before they finally decide to call it a night when Tsuna finally catches sight of the time on the clock over the pick-up window. Before he can protest, Reborn has passed a card to Steph and waved off Tsuna’s protests to at least cover the tip. 

“I’ll just do it electronically,” Reborn says, and Tsuna tries to hand him cash but Reborn just shoves his hands in his pockets and heads to the register on his own, nodding toward the door like Tsuna should go out ahead of him. 

Outside, shuffling impatiently on the sidewalk, Tsuna has the sudden realization that this has been awfully like a date, bill paid in full by the other party and everything, and he knows better. He definitely knows better than to let the thought fester, but he can’t quite squash the warm, hopeful feeling in his chest. 

Reborn comes out a moment later, instantly heading off in the direction of Tsuna’s dorm, and the warmth spreads a little farther, grows a little hotter, and even though they just part with a simple goodnight outside the dorm door, like always, the hope still isn’t squashed completely. It’s stupid, it’s totally stupid, Reborn probably won’t want anything to do with his stupid self after today, even despite all the kind words earlier, but something inside Tsuna, some quiet voice he can’t ignore, says “don’t give up yet” and he can’t help listening. 

~~~ 

It’s Wednesday, and Tsuna still has one last test to take tomorrow morning. Normally he would just wait until like a week afterward to check his final grades, just to get it all over with at once, but Reborn had promised him that the results of Math 101 would get posted by seven PM today and it’s seven-fifteen now and… 

_Fuck_ , he just can’t wait any longer. His ability to graduate come May is literally hinging on this one class and he can’t wait any longer. 

So Tsuna clicks through the student portal and opens up his grade report, eyes squeezing shut at the last second to say one last prayer. No idea who he’s praying _to_ exactly, but it’s gotta count for something, right? 

Slowly, painstakingly slowly, Tsuna eases one eyelid up until he can just barely focus on the screen, scanning down to the bottom of the page. 

He... 

He…. passed. 

He _PASSED!!!!_

Tsuna bolts up out of his seat, cramming his feet into his shoes and stumbling out into the hallway. He’s out of the dorm and sprinting down the sidewalk before he realizes he probably forgot to lock the door and his keycard may very well be sitting on his desk and not in his pocket. But screw it, he’ll just wait for Gokudera to get off shift if he did, he’s… 

If he runs all the way, he can probably catch Reborn as he’s leaving his office and Tsuna _has_ to thank him one last time. He has to, even if it’s unwelcome, if _he’s_ unwelcome. 

Reborn is just flicking the light off to his office and pulling the door shut when Tsuna races up the hallway and practically screeches to a halt, hunching over his knees to catch his breath, just for a moment. 

God, he actually passed! 

He tilts his head up, a manic grin splitting his face that only grows at Reborn’s quirked brow. “You’re amazing,” Tsuna blurts out, which is far too revealing, but maybe everything else he has to say will kind of… cover up exactly how much he means that. “I mean— obviously you're a great mathematician and a great teacher, but I really didn’t think… I didn’t think _anyone_ could save me from the mess I was in. Thank you. _Fuck_ , thank you so much Reborn.” 

Reborn shakes his head, the tiniest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Need a tissue?” he asks. 

A startled laugh huffs its way out of his chest. “Asshole,” Tsuna chuckles, and straightens up finally, heaving in a deep, steadying breath and letting it back out. “Is there anything I can do to thank you? I really think you deserve more than just words.” 

Reborn stares at him for a long, uncomfortable second, gaze piercing, and then tilts his head to the side. “Go on a date with me.” 

Tsuna blinks. “Umm… What?” 

“A date, Tsuna,” Reborn repeats, slowly, over-enunciating. “With me. A real one.” 

“‘A real one?’” is what Tsuna’s frozen brain spits out, still tripping over the ‘d’ word like a broken record. 

Reborn’s face tilts up toward the ceiling, eyes sliding closed. “Jesus Christ, Tsuna.” 

“I’m… hold on a second.” Tsuna scrubs a hand through his hair, brain kicking into motion, suddenly, and it’s _racing_ , trying to make sense of this, but he can’t keep getting stuck on… “ _Why?_ ”

“‘Why,’ what?” Reborn asks, head tipping back down to look at him with a pinched brow. 

“Why would you want to go on a date with _me?_ ” Tsuna asks. 

“Can’t you just accept that I want to?” Reborn fires back. 

Tsuna just stares at him until Reborn sighs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Tell you what,” he says, lips curling in what could either be amusement or mischief, it’s kind of hard to tell the difference sometimes. “You get cleaned up tomorrow after your last final and wait for me outside your dorm around six and I’ll explain then.” 

If he doesn’t push now, there’s a good chance Reborn will just keep putting him off endlessly, but… Hell, isn’t that what Reborn does? Tease and taunt and drive Tsuna crazy? Isn’t that kind of why he likes him? Is he willing to lose the opportunity out of fear and insecurity? 

No. No, not a chance in hell. If this is the best he’s going to get — and maybe it’s nothing more than a pity date or a sweet farewell before they part ways — but Tsuna’s gonna take it and he’s gonna ride with it, and just like with the tutoring he’ll milk it for all it’s worth. 

“Fine,” he says. “Dress code?” 

Reborn smirks. “A blazer, if you have one, but something with a collar will do. And that _does not_ include polos. Now, come on, it’s late and you need to get some sleep, you still have one last final to be rested for.” 

He herds Tsuna toward the door and out onto the sidewalk, and now that Tsuna’s not running on adrenaline he realizes how _fucking cold_ it is outside and he has to fight back a shiver. Reborn glances sideways at him and smirks, gaze traveling over his sweatpants and ratty t-shirt. There’s a smart-ass retort lurking in his eyes, but for some reason Tsuna can’t fathom he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he slides his coat off and _drapes it over Tsuna’s shoulders_. 

“Is there _ever_ a time when you think clearly?” Reborn asks. 

Ah. There it is. Tsuna glares at him and opens his mouth to retort, but then a large, elegant hand brushes against him, fingers threading between his own, and the sound morphs into some cross between a squeak and a whimper. 

“Warmer?” Reborn asks, and his smirk has… _shit_ , it looks so damn _soft_ , fond, even, as he looks over, and Tsuna’s insides melt into a puddle of goo. All he can do is nod and then melt a little more when Reborn grins something genuinely, innocently pleased before tugging him off toward Tsuna’s dorm. 

They walk the entire way there like that, Reborn’s heavy coat hanging around him like a tent and hands clasped together, warm and strong and maybe just a little sweaty. But good, so, so good. For just a moment, outside the door to Tsuna’s building, the air around them feels awkward, but then Reborn just bends down and presses a kiss next to his mouth, grinning at the way Tsuna flushes, and murmurs, “Goodnight.” 

And then he walks away, leaving Tsuna stranded outside the door with a smear of wetness on his cheek and his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest. A noise like a dying whale sounds from his throat and Tsuna crouches down to bury his face in his hands. 

He… Oh god, he really, truly, in _this_ reality has a _date_ with _Reborn_. 

A scuff of feet on the sidewalk some indeterminate time later has Tsuna peering up through his fingers straight into the green gaze of his best friend. 

Gokudera looks kind of constipated, mouth twisted up and expression pained. “Reborn finally asked you out, didn’t he?” 

Tsuna drops his hands and blinks. “What? Wait, he really does like me? _You_ knew he likes me?”

“Oh my god,” Gokudera groans, laying a hand over his eyes. “You’re such a moron. It was _obvious_. He’s _nice_ to you!” 

Something must happen to his face then, probably something sappy and soft, because Gokudera actually _gags_ and runs for the door.

“God, that’s _disgusting_. I don’t want to know any more!” he shouts. 

Tsuna doesn’t even care, just buries his face in his hands again and grins. 

He’s got a date with Reborn. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tsuna spends so long outside grinning sappily that Gokudera comes storming back down the stairs to drag him back to their room, grumbling at him the whole while about how if he has a cold for his date tomorrow Reborn will just dump his sneezing, disgusting self on the spot, so get inside you total _moron_. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://zacekova.tumblr.com/). Feel free to scream at me about this fic, ask questions, or request prompts.


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